9 August 2012
We used to think we were the only two alive.
Days filled with laughter, how we would race through the waves. The sun was hotter back then, everyday seemed warm and bright. Much like today.
I'm back where we used to lay, a tartan picnic rug - even then it was old and frayed - below us on the sand and rocks.
Was the sky a little bluer then? Or perhaps the clouds more elegant?
What was it that kept us entertained for hours... days... weeks... as we lay there entwined?
I look straight at the white-hot sun and blink - there it is now; the silhouette of us burned in my mind. Hands entangled to bridge the gap between hearts.
The golden rubble has been bleached by the sun, black seaweed is dried and crisped. Is that how our love is now? Faded and forgotten?
Did we really spend all that time together? Giant sand forts decorated for captured crabs, seaweed hair styles, shell necklaces and lolly stick rafts.
What happened to that simple, innocent love? I'll walk past your old house on the way home, and wonder if you ever think of me with my heart breaking as I lie in this place.
How many summers did we spend together, 6 or 8 or more? Treasured walks never overlooked, never over thought, we never even knew that we taught each other to love.
And it never seemed to end, there was no goodbye. Even now I sit here, thinking you will come.
Perhaps it is a blessing that the steady beat of the waves reminds me of our time together, a gentle reminder of an old summer love - the time when we were the only two alive.
Old Summer Love • Opuss № I